


The Book was Better

by Devereauxs_Disease



Series: Say Cheese! [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anniversary, Crack, I don't know what to say for myself, M/M, Porn, Smut, sassy cannibals, so smack?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 02:38:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6497545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal and Will celebrate their anniversary in the Say Cheese 'Verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Book was Better

**Author's Note:**

> A combo of two prompts:  
> 1\. A "Hanniversary" story  
> 2\. Hannibal and Will having a movie night.

Will burst into Hannibal’s office. Slinging his bag on the sofa, he whirled to face his trusted psychiatrist, a luck of pure rage burning in his eyes. Hannibal barely even flinched at the blustering display. He merely closed his notebook and walked toward the shelves to file it.

Will stormed after and knocked the book out of the doctor’s hand. Hannibal faced Will, snarling at the empath. The fight immediately left the empath’s face, replaced with uncertainty. Will took an involuntary step back. Hannibal pressed the advantage, backing Will toward the ladder to the mezzanine.

“I know.” Will was rapidly running out of escape routes.

“What do you know, Will?” Hannibal’s tone was light. He took a step forward and pinned Will against the ladder.

“You’re the Chesapeake Ripper!” Will growled, leaning as far away from the killer as the rungs would allow.

“Oh Will, now that you know my secret,” Hannibal crowded in, “I’m going to have to Chesapeake rip your clothes off.”

Will gasped as Hannibal crushed their mouth together, forcing his tongue into the empath’s mouth. The hands that were braced against Hannibal’s shoulders began to tear at his suit, ripping away the layers of fabric.

“I wouldn’t normally do this,” Will said, panting. “But I’ve got a brain fever.”

“I have a cure for that my little Graham Cracker,” Hannibal purred, tugging his massive cock out of his pants. Will dropped to his knees.

“Why doctor, do you recommend an injection?”

“You suffer from ence-fuck-itis, Will. I’ve known since I had you draw those cocks.”

“Then I guess you should cure me.”

Hannibal shoved his cock into Will’s mouth, fucking relentlessly into the warm, wet opening.

The image froze.

On the sofa, Will clutched the remote in a shaking fist. He turned to Hannibal who sat passively next to his husband, one arm still idly playing with the empath’s curls. The doctor raised his eyebrow in question. Will huffed, waving the remote at the screen.

“I don’t care how much you love her, Freddie Fucking Lounds is dog food the next time I see her.”

“I take it you don’t approve of her anniversary gift to us?” Hannibal’s mouth twitched in that irritating way that meant he was trying not to laugh.

“You know, flowers would have been fine. Maybe a card. Did you know she was selling our story rights to a porno company?”

“I assumed with the title _Murder Humpers_ the film would delve into the explicit. Did you even read the emails Freddie sent about the movie?”

“You don’t find this tasteless?” Will gestures toward the screen with the remote. “I mean, I was still hoping to kill you at that point! We never even kissed until after Dolarhyde.”

“True.” Hannibal lowered his head to press a light kiss into the curls behind Will’s ear. “But not a day goes by that I don’t mourn missing the opportunity to plunder you on that ladder.”

“Really?” Will smiled, a sweet little quirk of his lips, and leaned into the touch. “Wait. No you don’t. This is about our lives being turned into a shitty porno. And the ways I’m going to flay that red witch alive. Do you seriously not have any other comments about this porn?”

Will hated how high his voice sounded. He also hated how tight his pants felt at the moment. Stupid traitor body. Hannibal glanced at the paused film, a perfect still of the actor playing Will deep-throating an absurdly large cock.

“I do not look so menacing, and I those shoes are horrible and clash with the tie.” Hannibal allowed. “But I believe in these types of productions, the lion’s share of the budget is typically allotted for lubricant instead of costuming.” 

“Yeah, that’s the problem here, you look too sinister. You’re usually such a sweet-faced thing.” Will snorted when Hannibal nipped his ear in reproof, before continuing to nose through the curls around his ear. “I notice you didn’t complain about the 7-foot dick they gave you.”

“I briefly considered getting my sketchbook, but that would require movement and might disrupt the film.” Will laughed, in spite of himself, then elbowed the cannibal lightly. 

“I hope the image is ensconced in your Mind Palace, because I’m burning this fucking thing. I may use it as kindling and finally burn Freddie alive.”

“If you expect me to believe that lovely flush on your face is from embarrassment or righteous anger, you should probably remove your hand from my pants.”

Will looked down at his right hand and noticed for the first time that it was lightly rubbing the front of Hannibal’s pressed trousers.

When the hell had he started doing that?

His mouth quirked for a moment, before he pulled his lips into a lush pout and he met the cannibal’s eyes.

“I can’t help it doctor,” Will’s voice was breathy and light, mimicking his movie persona. His hand pressed harder on Hannibal’s pants, cupping the growing interest he found there. “You see, I have this brain fever…”

Hannibal’s eyes crinkled in amusement. His hips pressed into Will’s touch.

“I have a cure for that, my little Graham Cracker.”

The pair dissolved into a fit of giggles, even as Will continued his lazy hand job.

“Christ, Freddie really plumbed the depths when she sold the rights to this.”

“Actually, I believe plumbing your depths is exactly what I was about to do before a rude viewer halted my progress.” Hannibal pointed at the screen.

Will waved a dismissive hand.

“Well, if you’d rather watch that boy fumble his lines and the cock he’s choking down on our anniversary, then by all means…” Will took his hand off Hannibal’s dick and started the movie again, settling at the far end of the couch with his knees tucked primly beneath him.

“Will.” The empath ignored him resolutely. 

“Will.” Hannibal reached out to his love only to be swatted. 

“Shhh! I want to know if hot beef injections really are a cure for ence-fuck-itis.” A tiny smile played at the corner of the empath’s lips. He didn’t dare make eye contact with the cannibal who was intently glaring at him.

Hannibal launched forward grabbing the remote and turning off the television. Will opened his mouth to protest, but Hannibal grabbed his knees and dragged the empath beneath him on the leather sofa, covering his husband in nipping kisses. Will slapped at Hannibal, just enough resistance to get the doctor to pin his wrists above his head. Hannibal pressed their hips together as Will wriggled, sinking his teeth into the sensitive spot just under the empath’s jaw. 

“The cinema holds little appeal for me, my darling boy.” Hannibal traced his tongue along the shell of Will’s ear. “Especially when I can enjoy a live show.”


End file.
